We timed our arrival at the Mara to catch the first rays of the sun reflected in the river.
Shooting into the sun is a bit tricky. First off, clean your lens. Second, deal with very high noise in the dark parts. Third, get out of there quick because these lone buffalos are bloody dangerous...
After escaping unscathed (the buffalo was also fine) we saw a huge herd of wildebeest amassing on the far bank.
The normal routine of awaiting a crossing of wildebeest involves long periods of staring at a stationary herd, interrupted by the occasional mad dash further upstream (other directions are available) then watch them doing exactly the same thing.
This time, after only ten minutes,
they decided to go for it.
What started as a trickle quickly infected the rest of the herd.
A truly enormous number of beasts attempted to cross at the same time.
There are two objectives. Go fast and don't be on the outside.
The result is a cacophony of noise, a mass of hurtling bodies, nature at its most stupendous.
There were wildebeest leaping all around.
a plethora of splashes.
The noise from this crossing was carried afar. Other herds raced to join in, their instincts overwhelmed.
These smaller numbers hurled themselves into the fray.
Giant leaps as their energy levels topped out.
The masses reached the other side as a wave of animal flesh hit landfall.
Their calls of relief were often to attract their calves, whom up to that moment they had not given a s**t about.
Within minutes of the last wildebeest achieving safety, all seemed calm, as if nothing had happened.
Not a single death. Not a single injury, although I didn't examine all of them...
And dawn had only just broken. We still had all day to see the weird and wonderful endless forms of the animal kingdom.
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